


Wake

by bodyelectric (grantairas)



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairas/pseuds/bodyelectric
Summary: “Patroclus is still asleep.”“Please wake him,” Chiron requested, preoccupied with the fire he had started. “We have much to do today.”Achilles, all too eager to return to Patroclus and the comfort of the bed, obeyed and turned back into the cave.





	

Achilles woke to his name being called. He recognized Chiron’s voice, deepened by the echo from the cave walls, but he was too comfortable to be disturbed. The bed was warm, the covers soft, and more importantly, Patroclus was beside him. He was still asleep, Achilles noted, which was odd – normally it was Patroclus who woke first, and as a result Achilles rarely saw him sleeping. He wanted to take advantage of the opportunity, even if just for a moment; Chiron was patient.

He propped himself up on one elbow and gazed down at Patroclus, studying the features of his peaceful face. He could do this every morning and never grow tired of what he saw. His heart radiated warmth through the rest of his body.

Achilles could not remember exactly when he had realized how he loved Patroclus. He supposed it was when he began feeling the protectiveness, the adoration. At the time those thoughts had been strange to him. In his life in the palace, he had been given everything he could ever have conceived of wanting, and as a result, nothing was particularly special to him. If anything was lost, it would be replaced.

Not so with Patroclus. Here was something different from the beautiful lyres, the rich fabrics: a boy who had a propensity to scrape his knees and bruise his shins, and every time it happened Achilles found himself irrationally angry at the tree or the rock that had been responsible. There were multitudes of jewels and gold and thrones in the world, but they could not grin the way Patroclus did, could not laugh the way Patroclus did, could not stretch in the sun the way Patroclus did. When these things became worth more to Achilles than the kingdom itself, that must have been when Achilles knew.

He heard his name again, this time with more urgency, so he pulled himself away from his sleeping Patroclus and left the cave.

Outside, he greeted Chiron as he always did, with a small yawn.

“Patroclus is still asleep.”

“Please wake him,” Chiron requested, preoccupied with the fire he had started. “We have much to do today.”

Achilles, all too eager to return to Patroclus and the comfort of the bed, obeyed and turned back into the cave. He paused for a moment to think of how he should wake him. When he came to their shared bed, he crawled across to Patroclus to lean over him, his thighs on either side of Patroclus’ hips. He bent his head and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Patroclus,” he whispered, teeth grazing across the skin underneath Patroclus’ ear. “Wake up.”

Patroclus moved a little beneath him. Achilles pressed himself closer and said Patroclus’ name again, now in the low voice he knew Patroclus liked to hear from several nights’ worth of experience. He saw Patroclus smile, but his eyes were still closed, soft eyelids lined with long dark lashes. Achilles kissed them both.

“What are you doing?” Patroclus mumbled. He turned his head away, but Achilles’ kisses only followed.

“I’ve been given explicit orders from Chiron to wake you.”

“Is that so?” Patroclus laid still while Achilles peppered his face with light kisses.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Patroclus arched his back slightly, pretending to stretch. “What if I’d rather stay here, with you, like this?”

It was unlike Patroclus to talk so irreverently, but Achilles knew to play along. “I’ll tell him you said that. Then he’ll make us sleep separately, is that what you want?”

Patroclus snorted. It was not the unbecoming sound it would have been coming from someone who wasn’t Patroclus. Who wasn’t as adored as Patroclus. “As if that’d stop you. Don’t you remember the river, the forest, the - ”

“Yes, yes,” Achilles cut him off. “I don’t need reminding. Stop distracting me from my duty.”

Patroclus was holding back a laugh. He stretched his arms above his head, and on an impulse Achilles reached up to hold his wrists there. He kissed the dip in Patroclus’ elbow, the full curve of his bicep, his shoulder, his collarbone. He looked at the pale pink fullness of Patroclus’ mouth, the way it contrasted with his olive brown skin, then he kissed him there too. Patroclus caught Achilles’ bottom lip between his teeth and pulled. His eyes were open. The way he looked up at Achilles was like a language unto itself.

“Achilles?” Chiron called from the cave’s entrance. Patroclus was still looking at Achilles.

“Let’s go,” Achilles whispered. When he tried to move away, Patroclus brought his hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down for a deeper kiss. Another minute passed before Achilles finally stood, and Patroclus followed reluctantly.

Before they stepped out into the light, Achilles felt a gentle hand grab his elbow. He turned and looked into the pair of wide dark eyes that he had come to love more than anything in the world.

“Later?” Patroclus asked. Achilles’ heart raced. This was what Patroclus did to him.

“Later,” he answered, and he ached to kiss him once more, but Chiron was waiting, and they had already taken their time. Later, when their lessons were over, when Chiron let them go free, Achilles would take Patroclus somewhere new, and there they could be as lingering as they liked, until the next day, when it would start again. There were so many more days to come, Achilles thought, and he wanted them all.


End file.
